Cap in hand Allyn shuffled toward his wife, bending to kiss her. Taking his face in her hands, Jessie turned his ear to her mouth, whispering something to him. He jerked away, a look of shock crossing his face. Then, characteristically, he chirped, "Bye Mama. See you tomorrow." He stepped into his rubbers and trotted down the hall.
That night Dad left the hospital. He had said his last "goodbye" to Mom, although at the time he did not know (or would not accept) that it would be his last "goodbye." She was only forty-nine.
Part of Dad died with Mom. He was devastated. He just could not function. His mind seemed to wander back to his days "up north." So one of us kids suggested that he take a trip up there to check out his old "stamping ground." This he did. He came back a couple of weeks later just glowing. He had visited a family that he had known back then - 25 or so years before, while he was in mission work up there. He talked on and on about the family, that there were 12 children, ranging in age from a baby, up to the oldest daughter, age 29. But it was about this oldest daughter that he spoke mostly. He told us that she had been married at 16, and that after only two months of marriage, her husband was sent oversees, where he was killed (WWII).
Dad, and this young woman, twenty-two years Dad's junior, "hit it off". She was eager to get away from her circumstances, and Dad really needed a wife. (And after all, Mom's dying words to him, when she had pulled his head close to her and whispered in his ear, had been, "Allyn, you were not meant to live alone. Go out and find yourself a good woman.")
When Dad came home and told us about this woman he had met, we were all shocked; however, Evelyn and I, being the oldest at home, pondered the thought. Our oldest sister, Clara, engaged to be married, had already left home. Evelyn was twenty-one. I was nineteen. Evelyn had had her heart set on going to India when she graduated from Bible school. (She was in her junior year). I had taken a year off to help out at home, after graduating from high school, so had just entered my first year at Bible school when Mom died. The responsibility of Dad and the younger ones would be on our shoulders. And we could see our lives being put on hold for a long, long time.
At any rate, Dad went back up north a couple more times that spring. After one of his trips he announced to us that he and "Helen" planned to marry on June 21.
Dad asked us not to say anything to anyone. This was to be a family secret. He told us that when the time came, we would be allowed to spread the news. So for all of that spring we had to keep "mum" about Dad's surprise engagement. It had been only 6 months since Mom died, so we were not eager to spread the news anyway, for fear of what people would think. AND she was 22 years younger than Dad.
["Helen" was a quiet, simple (the true meaning - uncomplicated) person. She had a speech impediment, and a limp, due to having broken her leg when she was living with her mother-in-law, and her mother-in-law would not take her to a doctor, so the leg mended crooked. She also had granulated eyelids. (This explanation is not to demean Helen, just to give you the picture of what it was like for us to explain her to outsiders, who adored our mother.)]
On the morning of June 23, the newly married couple arrived home from the north. The house was a mess, and there were NO groceries in the cupboard. I had planned to go grocery shopping later in the day, as we were not expecting them back until the following day. So! Poor Helen! Here she was, walking into a houseful of nearly grown, to grown, children, with nothing in the cupboards to make breakfast with. But I will never forget this: She took off her coat, went to the cupboard and scraped together enough flour, baking powder, sugar, salt and milk to make some pancakes. There were no eggs, but the pancakes didn't turn out too badly, even so. Dad was a little upset with us, but he understood, after we explained to him the reason for the poor reception.
Poor Helen! How did she ever survive those first few days of her marriage? To Evelyn and me, she was a Godsend. Understandably, it was harder for Marianne and Pauline. They were still children, Marianne, an imature sixteen and Pauline just thirteen.
We elected to call our new step-mom "Helen-mom" to distinguish her from me. I was dubbed "Helen-sis". One couldn't help but love Helen-mom. She was an unobtrusive member of the family, and never tried to take Mom's place. She was more like a big sister to Evelyn and me. Alfred soon left home, but we know he loved her, as Alfred is a peace-loving person, and he does his best to stay on an even keel with the world. He is still like that. Marianne and Pauline soon learned to love Helen-mom, too.